Die Lyrical I
Sub specie aeternitatis…
Deny the human I.
Eyes see only the small,
the subjective, one mind.
Take the view from nowhere,
from the second person,
the wider version of You,
tuning a violin to play
unknown enigmatic variations,
world without end.
Leave your Self behind.
Ignore your futile feelings,
no one else can feel them,
no one else wants to.
Your identity, your tribe,
the overtly political,
the tiresomely topical,
ask simple questions,
wallow in the poverty
of the personal, a place
providing no perspective,
soon forgotten, a graveyard
visited a few times,
overgrown, abandoned
as time runs away.
Arise and go now
beyond that horizon,
experience multitudes,
make them your own.
Become pregnant with
asking larger questions.
Imagine vast answers.
Experience visions.
Write them down.
Give birth to more.
Call these children poems.
